Emerald's Darkness
by Pink Feline
Summary: AU. Voldemort is no longer the only threat. Harry is no longer a saviour. New forces are rising with chaotic intentions.The world is about to change. War is inevitable. No pairings. Some OCs.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP. The events, actions, decisions and connections do not apply to any of the books, they are based on original ideas.

Notes: No pairing apart from mentions of Ron/Hermione. The story does not follow the events of 'The Order of The Phoenix' and onwards. This story is AU and does deal with OCs.

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Chapter 1: Silence

Silence, the absence of sound, of noise. It was to silence and the late morning sun that he awoke. This in itself was somewhat unusual. There was no creaking of stairs, no voices, no birds, no nothing. Aunt Petunia was not banging on the door, making demands for him to get himself up and working. Dudley was not stomping down the stairs and Vernon, well, he could not hear Vernon's bellowing voice either.

It was the silence that had awoken him, for it was unnaturally loud and oppressive. Harry lay quietly on his bed, listening for any signs of life. When at last he could bear the silence no more, he sat up and swung his legs off of the bed. Standing and stretching slightly, the fifteen-year-old boy opened his door and stepped out into the hall.

Bright green eyes glanced cautiously around as he moved to the stairs and started to descend. He walked quietly, for if his family was still asleep, he did not want to be the one to wake them lest he be punished for it. He walked into the living room to find that the curtains were pulled back, letting in the sun. The room, as Petunia preferred all the rooms to be, was spotless with everything in its rightful place. The television was off, a rare occurrence when Dudley was not out with his friends. The room was empty and so Harry moved to the kitchen.

The kitchen was as empty as the living room. None of the cooking utensils were out of place and no residue odour spoke of food having been prepared in the kitchen that morning. Harry left the kitchen and moved to the front door. Looking outside he saw that the street was empty, no movement coming from any of the neighbour's houses. The Dursleys car was still present which meant that, unless they had decided to walk which was highly unlikely, the Dursleys were still at home.

Harry concluded quite brilliantly that none of the Dursleys were present downstairs. Whoever had opened the curtains must have returned upstairs before he had awoken. Curious and slightly uncomfortable at the silence, Harry walked up the stairs and into the empty hall. He listened outside his Aunt and Uncle's room for snores or some other sound betraying their presence. Hearing nothing, he took a deep breath and slowly and as quietly as possible eased open the bedroom door. The master bedroom was empty; the curtains opened to the sun and the bed neatly made. There was no sign of Petunia or Vernon. Quickly closing the door so as not to get caught if someone was to come up the stairs, Harry turned to his cousin's room.

Dudley's room was similar to his parent's, only a messier version. The room was scattered with various toys and objects amongst other junk and laundry. Apart from the messiness expected from most young men Dudley's age, the room was relatively neat. The bed was made and yet the curtains remained closed, giving the room a gloomy appearance. Dudley was absent.

With a frown now firmly in place and a sense of unease looming over him, Harry slowly made his way over to the window. With thin fingers, he gently opened the curtains only to freeze halfway. Outside a full moon loomed ominously in the night sky. Below, a forest stood dark and dead against the background of the sky, not unlike the forbidden forest. In his shock, Harry stumbled back a few feet, the curtain falling back down to obscure the nightmarish landscape outside.

Panic and fear swirled through his mind. Had the sun not been shining just a moment before when he had checked the other rooms? They were definitely no longer in Privet Drive, of that he was most sure. Whirling around to leave the room, Harry felt his mouth fall open in shock once more. The bed was no longer made, instead the sheets and blankets were thrown about and twisted as if a struggle had taken place. The floor was littered with broken objects and torn clothing.

Looking back at the window he found it broken, glass shards scattered on the floor below. The curtains were torn and swaying gently to a slight and cold breeze. Harry ran for the door only to pull his hand back from the doorknob. Deep scratch marks ran down the dark wood of the door, menacing and jagged. A low growl was heard behind him, uncomfortably close to his defenceless being. He did not have his wand with him. Harry turned slowly to face whatever had made the sound and could only blink when nothing met his eyes. He was alone in the room, apart from the shadows that lengthened and played around the room.

Harry slowly reached behind him with one hand to the doorknob. Just as he was turning it to escape, a large gust of wind entered the room, pinning Harry to the door. His heart beating painfully fast and loud in his ears, Harry managed to open the door and fall out. He quickly jumped up and pushed against the force of the wind in order to close the door. Not taking a moment's rest harry fled to his room, standing at the centre and waiting for something to happen. The house was as silent as before, only now it was shrouded in night and shadow.

He scanned the room for his wand but it was nowhere in sight. It was surprising how defenceless and weak he felt without his wand. Whatever was happening was not explainable by muggle standards, but it was not impossible by magical standards. This made it all the more frightening. Was this some plot of Voldemort, or was this something else entirely?

His breathing sounded loud and heavy in the silence, his lungs burning and heart racing. Not for a moment did he let down his guard. He closed the curtains, not wanting to see the haunting sky. He did not know how long he stood in the centre of the room, but instead of slowly relaxing as the time passed, he only became tenser.

Harry started violently as something banged loudly on his door. Before he could pull himself together, the door swung open to reveal a mildly irritated looking Petunia. The two stared at each other silently before Petunia scowled darkly at him. "Breakfast then chores, boy." It was all she said as she turned her on her heels and left the room. Harry slowly got his breath back, his heart rate slowing down to a pace that was normal. He sprang up and flung open his curtains to be greeted by the sun once more. Somewhat confused and more than a little uneasy, Harry quickly dressed and walked from the room.

As he stepped into the hall and walked down the stairs, the familiar sounds of his family could be heard. Dudley was stomping around the house and from the kitchen, the sound of Petunia and Vernon talking could be heard. Vernon was growling about some article in the paper while Petunia was making breakfast, occasionally giving an opinion to Vernon's grumbling. Dudley barged into the kitchen not soon after Harry and sat on his end of the table. Harry followed his cousin's example, his eyes watching the Dursleys carefully as if expecting them to disappear right in front of his eyes.

While eating his meagre breakfast, Harry kept watching his family from the corners of his eyes and through his lashes. He was still frowning somewhat and was grateful when none of the Dursleys commented on it. He preferred being ignored by them for the most part. Plans were being made between the family of three, none noticing as Harry slipped out to the garden to begin his chores.

Throughout the rest of the day, Harry could not pull his mind from thoughts on the strange events of the morning. It could not be a dream, as he could not remember having woken up at all. He might have been sleep walking, and so woke in the middle of the room as he followed the dream, but this to seemed rather unlikely. Harry found that he could not ignore it, and so even as he fell asleep that very night, the events kept running through his mind.


End file.
